


We Were First

by fatalchild



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-16
Updated: 2012-11-16
Packaged: 2017-11-18 19:45:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/564600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatalchild/pseuds/fatalchild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick is occasionally privy to Lucifer's inner thoughts.  He's fixated on Sam Winchester, the true vessel, but if Sam is the true vessel, where does that leave Nick?  Written for the srs2012 prompt "Nick is jealous of the attention Lucifer shows Sam."</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Were First

Demon blood is thick and hot and coppery, the metallic taste tinged and corrupted with a touch of sulfur. It’s disgusting, sliding down Nick’s throat and coating his tongue, but he knows it brings Lucifer relief, so he never comments on it. He never mentions how the veil between their minds becomes thin in those moments. He doesn’t tell Lucifer that he can smell and see and taste the blood, that it makes him sick, that it hurts. He doesn’t complain, not until Lucifer’s own thoughts begin to slip through in these vulnerable moments. It’s always the same, a brief break in sanity as the horrid obsession takes Lucifer over. The boy’s name echoes through their shared consciousness like a mantra: _Sam Winchester. Sam Winchester. Sam Winchester._

“You think about him a lot,” Nick says, his voice a thin whisper in the back of Lucifer’s mind.

Lucifer leans back in his chair. He stretches his legs, their legs, out in front of him and crosses them at the ankles. “Yes,” he says simply.

Nick observes this posture from within, though he has no control over it. Lucifer is calm, relaxed, subdued. His guard is down, almost as if he were settling down for a nap. Nick takes the opportunity and presses him.

“Why is he so special?”

“He’s my true vessel.”

“What’s the difference?”

“He was made for me, completely and entirely.”

“I wasn’t?”

Lucifer hesitates. “No.”

“So what does that mean?”

“Hm?”

“For me. What does that mean for me?”

“Sam will be able to contain me perfectly.”

“You’re talking about the burning.”

“Yes.”

Nick is quiet for a while. He was never sure if it was the general disconnect from his body that had kept him from noticing for so long or if Lucifer was intentionally shielding him. He’d been vaguely aware of some discomfort for a while. It began at his back, a hot, itching sensation across his shoulders that slowly worked down his spine and up his neck before escalating to something raw and painful. Nick hadn’t understood what was happening to his body until he happened to catch a glimpse of his face, Lucifer’s face, reflected in a darkened window. The angry, red burns across their shared flesh had startled him, and it was only later that he began to ponder the gravity of Lucifer’s suffering, how much he was being sheltered from.

“Lucifer?”

“Yes?”

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Will it hurt with Sam?”

“No.”

It’s Nick’s turn to hesitate now. He’s not enough. He’ll never be enough for Lucifer. The thought twists inside of him, coiling into a dark, hateful bitterness. Destiny has chosen Sam Winchester, and the boy is too ignorant to even listen. Worse still, deep down, Nick doesn’t want him to because he doesn’t want to be left behind.

“I can hear you in there, Nick,” Lucifer whispers, and Nick suddenly feels exposed and ashamed. Lucifer smiles. “It’s alright. I understand. But you don’t have anything to be worried about. You’ll always be immensely special to me, Nick. After all, destiny may have chosen Sam, but I chose you for myself.”

Nick is suddenly too aware of his body, at least parts of his body. He feels Lucifer’s deliciously cool fingers trailing along the insides of his thighs through heavy, restrictive denim. He can hear the zipper being pulled down, feel the fabric sliding off his hips. Lucifer’s touch is surprisingly gentle. His hand moves in a perfect rhythm, pressure and speed exactly as Nick likes. He doesn’t have to say anything; Lucifer knows. He wants to tilt his head back and shut his eyes to revel in the sensation. Lucifer lets him. Their shared breath comes in rapid little gasps now, but Nick is almost certain that’s all him. Lucifer corrects him. I’m right here with you. That makes it better, makes him want it so much more. He wants to lift his hips, wants to press into Lucifer’s hand and make him feel it, but he can’t. Nick has to move at Lucifer’s pace, and he seems intent on stretching the experience out with a sort of otherworldly patience befitting an archangel. Nick is certainly burning now, and he doesn’t even mind. He trembles and pants and moans. He surrenders absolutely, pleading with Lucifer and calling his name out like a prayer. That does it. Lucifer’s fingers twitch in a firm grip. Three quick strokes and they come together in a moment of perfect unity.

“You see, Nick? You’re mine. All mine.”

Nick wants to nod, but he can feel his consciousness ebbing away under the haze of pleasure, and for a moment, he’s terrified. He doesn’t want to disappear. Lucifer shushes him gently and wraps his soul in cool, comforting grace.

“I’m not letting you go.”

Until Sam comes, Nick thinks bitterly, correcting himself too late.

Lucifer smiles for him once more. “I came to you first, Nick. I needed you first. Nothing will ever change that, nothing can.”

Nick relaxes then and curls into the back of Lucifer’s consciousness to sleep. Lucifer is right, after all. He was here first. Lucifer was his first. They were one first, and nobody is ever going to take that away from him.


End file.
